Equilibrium
by Slayer-Nic
Summary: Ever Wondered: How Buffy Became The Slayer? Who killed the previous slayer? And what led up that final moment?
1. Deserving

Chapter 1 – Deserving  
  
Longley Park, Cleveland 1996  
  
The final battle. For her, though blissfully unaware of it, it was soon to come. Sooner than she thought. The ancient, inherited power that drove her innate instincts was soon to be hers no longer. It would be passed onto the next generation, as it had, as it is, and as it always will be. Passed onto the future chosen one. To the Slayer. Who? No one knew. But they were soon to find out.  
  
The full moon rose high over the trees and the sky was dappled with hazy white lights casting a haunting glow over the woods and parkland. The ghostly shadows of Longley Park stretched over the autumn ground as India Cohen watched them distort in the breeze listening intently for any threats. She heard a twig snap underfoot some way behind her, the hairs in the back of her neck stood on end, she shot a look backwards and there she saw what she'd been hunting for. Two hungry yellow eyes stared back at her and instinct took over sensing; Vampire. She quickly spun herself around and raised her right arm revealing a sharp wooden stake clenched in her fist. The vampire's eyes widened and he turned to flee. India immediately followed him keeping a close distance. She was fast and gaining ground on her prey. She effortlessly followed the vampire, watching his every move as he made his way through the maze of trees and out into the open grassland of the park. India leapt into the air and landed on his back trying to stake him from behind but he threw her over his shoulder and she slammed her back to the ground. She quickly got to her feet and took on a fighting stance. Lunging forward she aimed the stake at the vampire's lifeless heart, he blocked her attack so she smashed her other fist at his face with intense force. He staggered backwards, she saw and took the opportunity of tripping him and knocked him to the floor. She swiftly plunged the stake into the chest of the vampire and in an instant he exploded into a cloud of dust. "Easy kill. It's no fun when they're easy." India stood up, shook the dust out of her hair and made her way home with a spring in her step.  
  
Slaying wasn't a chore to her. She felt honoured to have such a potent power within her. It made her feel strong and confident. She had no fear. She cherished every day she had as she knew it could easily be her last and yet never thought the end would come for her. She was invincible. Or at least that's what she thought. 


	2. Defining Moments

Chapter 2 – Defining Moments  
  
An orange glow filled the sky as sunrise approached and India finished her patrol for the night. She always looked forward to going back to her watcher after patrolling and proudly telling him the story of the nights events. Sometimes she would exaggerate and make things up just to be able to linger in his company that little bit longer. Kit Bothwell was a tall, dark and devilishly handsome man with a passion for sorcery. As the watchers before him and undoubtedly the watchers that would follow he had a fondness for tweed. He was sweet, reliable and most importantly he always looked after India. They shared a profound respect for each other but unbeknown to him India's feelings ran deeper that that. Over the five years she had been the Slayer she had seen so many sides to Kit and began to love every one of them. She couldn't fault him. However, the love she felt for Kit was unrequited. She didn't know this from instinct; she had shown him her true colours only the night before. As she slowly approached Kit's house she became nervous; her palms began to sweat and she had butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. She stood for a few seconds at his door thinking before she could sum up the courage to knock. What if he doesn't want to be with me? What if he does? What if he thinks it was a joke? What if he doesn't? What if he thinks it's best a new watcher replaces him? What if- Her escalating thoughts were cut short when Kit answered the door. "Hello India. I thought I saw you coming up the path so I decided its time I be a gentleman and open the door for the lady!" He smiled. "Thanks Kit." India replied smiling. He led her through the hallway and into the kitchen where he was making a fresh brew of tea. This is promising she thought. Maybe he's doing this because he loves me. She shot back down to Earth with a tremendous thud when she heard him say, "Please don't read anything into this India. I really was just being polite when I came to the door." He confirmed. "What? Don't you think that's a bit harsh?" Imitating a British accent she said, "Flash in front of India what she can't have!" "Now India, you know that's not true. I love you of course I do, just not like that. You know I can never love you like that even if I wanted to. The watchers council forbids it." He said firmly yet in a sympathetic tone. "So that's it? That's all I get?" She said with tears welling up in her eyes. "I love you so much. Why do you think I call here every night after patrol when you live miles from me? I love spending time with you and you love spending time with me and don't pretend it's not true because you know it is! Do you have any idea how hard it is being around you knowing that I can never have you? Do you?" She cried hysterically. "I'm sorry. I...I...ha...have to go." She could barely speak. Kit gently grabbed her arm as she turned to leave. "Don't go...lets talk about this." Kit said softly. "I want to go home. Get off me!" She shook her arm out his grasp and stormed out of the front door. "INDIA! India come back!" He yelled. "NO! I don't ever want to see you again! I wish you were dead!" She screamed back.  
  
Yes, maybe she was invincible. Physically. Mentally she was a wreck. Kit had never loved her. She knew that well. But accepting the fact was hard. At times unbearable. She was strong. She could take care of herself. Physically Kit wasn't a threat to her despite his sometimes aggressive attitude. Mentally however, he tore her apart. His rejection of her had brought her one step closer to a moment that would define her life. A moment that would begin her end. 


	3. Wishful Thinking

Chapter 3 – Wishful Thinking  
  
The cries of a woman in pain pierced the air in the peaceful neighbourhood of Mayvale provoking intrigue from neighbouring homes as lights flickered on and off in windows and the telephone wires became alive with curious voices. News travels fast in these parts and it doesn't take long for this inquisitive community to discover the instigator of the woman's misery. In this particular neighbourhood and this particular town, news doesn't only travel among the natural beings. Those from the underground and those that were thought to only exist in myth or nightmare learn of the commotion from the human world. One of those beings was especially interested in this woman and wanted only one thing: Vengeance.  
  
  
  
India stormed down the crazy paved path from Kit's house in floods of tears wishing she'd never gone to see him. I hate him! She thought. I hate him! Last night he didn't seem so against my advances, she thought to herself confused thinking about the events of the night before.  
  
With the slaying finished for the night India Cohen did her usual post slayage routine of reporting back to her watcher. She walked straight in when she reached his front door as Kit always insisted she did. Sometimes she knocked just to be polite. When she entered the house, she could hear the kettle boiling so wandered through the hallway to library at the back of the house. India popped her head round the door and saw her watcher sat at his desk, his glasses half way down his nose and engrossed in a book. She couldn't help but admire him. When she eventually came back down to Earth she gently knocked on the door to alert him of her presence and entered the room. He looked up from his book and smiled when he saw his slayer alive in front of him. "Hello India. How was patrol?" He asked. She told him all about her night and he listened intently taking notes and asking questions at relevant intervals for his Watcher's Diary entry he would write later that evening. Kit and India than went into the sitting room to have tea and biscuits as they watched a late movie as they often did as a little slayer-watcher tradition after patrolling. This time it was a movie that neither of them had any profound interest in but it was something to watch. Bored of the movie, India started telling jokes she'd heard earlier that day at University. They were terrible and yet they couldn't breathe for laughing. India leant on Kit to support herself, worn out from laughing and looked up at him smiling. He gazed back at her crystal blue eyes and she placed her hand on his leg. He didn't object. Slowly, she leaned forward, keeping her eyes locked on his. She moved closer to him, now their lips were almost touching and she could feel his breath on her skin. Her heart began beat ferociously within her chest and she yearned for him. India leant in to kiss him. He slid his arm around her waist and gently kissed her lips in a lasting embrace. He pulled away, "I...I shouldn't..." He whispered. "Shh." India replied, "Just kiss me." She ran her fingers through the back of his hair and gently pulled him toward her but he quickly got up. "We shouldn't India...You should leave. I'm...I'm sorry." Kit said.  
  
  
  
That's what had initiated her anger. How could he be so cruel? He enjoyed last night I could feel it. The way he kissed me...ARGH! I never want to see him ever again! She thought. India's temper had reached boiling point and she turned around to face Kit's house and yelled "I wish you were dead Kit Bothwell!" as loud as her lungs would allow. She slowly continued down the path from Kit's house hanging her head in sorrow. She looked up from her long brown curls, matted with tears; she brushed them from her face and saw a figure step out from behind the aged oak tree at the foot of the garden. "Done!" The figure said in a low, husky feminine voice as the pendant of her necklace glowed emerald green.  
  
Demons. Everybody has them. Whether they exist within or without doesn't matter. They're still there. Still trying to hurt you. Waiting for you trip and fall so they can kick you while you're down. You just can't let them win. 


	4. Destiny

Chapter 4 -  
  
Silence. It was deafening. India froze. She couldn't move. It felt like a dream. Her eyes became glazed and her face expressionless. She knew what had just happened. She knew it. She felt numb. Dead inside. Dead like her lover. She knew who was standing in front of her. His murderer. She also knew what she was going to do because no one does that to a slayer and gets away with it. A slayer doesn't tolerate that. A slayer slays. And that's exactly what she intended to do.  
  
Everything felt like slow motion. The way the breeze blew the trees, the way the lone car seemed to drift down the street and even the familiar noises of the night seemed trapped in a trancelike state. India turned her head just in time to see Kit's head hit the door handle of the front door with a painful thud and then his lifeless body slump to the ground. It was a shocking scene to witness. As she stood motionless trying to comprehend what she had just seen she could feel that familiar feeling building up inside her. A feeling that gave her the courage and the strength to be who she really was. A feeling that caused her to slay without remorse.  
  
The woman stood before her gave her a long hard stare, looked her up and down and India noticed she had a glimmer of panic in her eyes. Her face wasn't human but her shapely figure was. India had seen her before that she was sure of, but so far, hadn't had the pleasure of killing her. "Anyanka. You should know better than to pick on a slayer by now. It been what? A thousand years?" India remarked rather sarcastically obviously unafraid of this woman, fully recovered from her trance and back up to speed. "A slayer? Dammit! I..." Anyanka didn't have time to finish before India caught her unawares and threw a hard, vengeful punch to the side of her face knocking her down. She didn't stop. She kicked and punched Anyanka repeatedly and almost maliciously for what she had done. India spun round to retrieve her weapons bag that she had had with her since patrolling earlier that night. It was a costly mistake. Never take your eyes off your opponent was what Kit had always taught her. Now he was dead and it was all her fault. She should know better than to go around haphazardly making wishes. Be careful what you wish for; another one of Kit's golden rules. He was gone. Forever. Now she had to make it right. Restore the balance. An eye for an eye. Measure for measure. She threw stakes and other smaller weapons from her bag and pulled out a long, burnished silver medieval sword. She held it up in the moonlight and admired the beauty of such a lethal weapon. Anyanka was behind her still but no longer down. She rose her arm to strike India unsuspecting from behind but she swiftly turned and plunged the sword firmly through Anyanka's heart forcing her backwards and pinning her to the oak tree behind. Anyanka's face changed from demonic to reddened and bruised yet beautifully feminine with blood seeping from her inflated lip and a piercing pain surging through her body. "OUCH!" She yelled. "That's never happened before. A sword through the chest not gonna cut it." Anyanka retorted. "No, but this will." India said brandishing an axe. But before she even had chance to move Anyanka wrenched the sword from her chest and forced it through India's. India tried to breathe but her chest was too tight. She fell to the ground on her knees. She was shaking, trying to get air into her lungs but she was choking. Her own ruptured arteries were spilling blood and slowly drowning her. It was a painfully slow death. Each second seeming longer than the next. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity she gasped out her last breath. Her head hit the floor and her empty eyes looked toward her dead lover. Anyanka had gone leaving two broken hearts bleeding to death and bleeding for each other.  
  
The final battle. It had been fought. And lost. Her demons had won. A once powerful young woman was now a lifeless corpse. Just another statistic in Cleveland's notoriously high mortality rate. The world was now vulnerable. Unprotected. Its guardian had been eliminated. The power she once possessed would now be passed onto the future chosen one. To the new slayer. Who would it be? No one knew. But they were soon to find out. And it was to be one heck of a surprise. 


End file.
